


Pretty Little Thing

by geekyngorey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Somnophilia, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Smut, Soft Peter Parker, Sub Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23939212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyngorey/pseuds/geekyngorey
Summary: He scanned the crowd again, seeing a head of hair identical to Peter’s but turning in another direction after seeing the baby pink outfit and cheer skirt. Tony continued his search for another twenty minutes before frustratingly pulling up Friday again. “Where the fuck is Peter?”“Peter Parker is approximately 20 paces directly to your left sir.”Tony mumbled a few choice words before whipping his head around, still only seeing the one girl in pink.“Peter Parker spotted, sir.”“Oh you’ve got to be fucking me.”Tony gets an alert from Friday that Peter is highly intoxicated and finds out that his friendly neighborhood Spider Man has a secret hobby.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 474





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ao3 fic so I hope you enjoy! This is also my first Starker fic and I'm super pumped to write it! Big thank ya to my Kylie (aka editor).

Tony’s hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white as he watched the speedometer climb higher and higher. Adrenaline felt like liquid nitrogen coursing through his veins, his brain cycling from terrified to outraged to worried as he neared the bar. It’d been almost three months since his last drink and he’d kill for the sweet burn of rum down his throat at a time like this. “FRIDAY update on Peter Parker.”

“Still highly intoxicated sir. Location: approximately 2.3 miles from current location of Tony Stark.”

“Thanks, Fri.”

He rode in his silent storm of emotions until he whipped into the parking lot of one Sal and Judy’s. As soon as he exited the car, he could hear the thump of bass and muted excited screaming. Any other time, Tony would probably roll his eyes and send Peter an exasperated look about “youth these days”. Except, right now, Peter was in the middle of a gay bar approximately 100ft away from him, white girl wasted and probably being felt up by grimey closeted college boys.

The crunch of the gravel parking lot under his feet added to his climbing anxiety. The loud cheers of a crowd of young adults and the insistent pulse of whatever music the current drag queen was dancing to added to his headache. All he wanted to do was stroll over to the bar, down whatever gin they had handy, and slip into oblivion. Instead, Toy searched the sea of colored hair and varying degrees of grunge clothing to find one Peter Parker.

He knew the boy went out on the weekends. Peter had recently graduated highschool and had an ever growing friend group, so of course the friendly neighborhood Spiderman needed time to relax. Tony had even sent him a thumbs up when Pete had texted him earlier that afternoon saying he wouldn’t be coming to the lab that day. It was fine. It was  _ normal _ .

Peter getting drunk, however, was most definitely  _ not _ . 

He was a good kid! Just turned 18 and still made sure to stop and help old ladies cross the street. Never got suspended from school. Always treated Tony with respect and revere. So what the ever loving fuck was he doing getting so drunk that Tony got an alert from Friday about Peter’s alarmingly high blood alcohol content?

Sure Tony let him have a few drinks around the Tower here and there (with May’s permission, of course), but he never let the little spider get more than a little tipsy. And even then, the kid’s metabolism almost always ate right through the alcohol. If Friday was sending him alerts about intoxication, then Peter had to be drinking a steady flow of almost pure alcohol. And the thought both terrified and pissed Tony off to no end. 

He scanned the crowd again, seeing a head of hair identical to Peter’s but turning in another direction after seeing the baby pink outfit and cheer skirt. Tony continued his search for another twenty minutes before frustratingly pulling up Friday again. “Where the fuck is Peter?”

“Peter Parker is approximately 20 paces directly to your left sir.”

Tony mumbled a few choice words before whipping his head around, still only seeing the one girl in pink. 

“Peter Parker spotted, sir.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking me.”

Tony marches up to the kid leaning heavily on a muscular arm. He takes a breath and grabs their toned shoulder, and turns them around. Sure enough, it’s his Peter.

He takes a second to get a good look at the kid’s outfit while his brain makes the connection that this pretty little thing is  _ Peter Motherfucking-Spider-Man Parker _ . His eyes travel down the sheer cardigan to the strappy crop top with “Baby” scripted across the chest. He soaks in the bounce of the pleated cheer skirt and black tights, and fuck he hasn’t seen anyone wear a garter belt as part of an outfit since the nineties. Tony can feel his pants get tighter every second he stares. It’s not until he hears a soft “Mr. Stark?” tumble out of those glossed lips that he snaps out of it. This is fucking  _ Peter _ . 

“You’re lucky I’m so fucking relieved to see you right now because when you wake up in the morning, I’m going to chew your ass out. And  _ you _ !’ Tony turns toward the heavily muscled guy Peter was hanging onto and jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

The guy stares at him for a moment before letting out an audible sigh of relief. “Thank fucking God you’re here! I’ve been trying to get him to leave for like an hour now!”

“...What?”

“I’m his friend, Elliott. We came here to see a friend of ours perform, but she still hasn’t come out yet. I left to go to the bathroom and found some fucking Chads from the local uni trying to get Peter drunk. I was gonna call, but the little fucker has like four different passwords on his phone, and he’s too out of it to even stand!”

Tony’s eyes narrowed at the man as he wound an arm around Peter’s  _ (holy shit really fucking tiny) _ waist. “How do I know you’re not some prick who was trying to cop a feel?”

The man’s eyes widen before he lets out a short laugh. “Nah, dude. I don’t fuck with guys.”

“Then what the hell are you doing in a gay bar?”

“I’m fucking trans. I can be in a LGBTQ space if I wanna be.”

Tony takes another glance at the brickhouse of a man, about to ask how the fuck he could have built that much muscle, but then Peter lets out an incoherent whine, cuddling further into Tony’s arm. “I don't feel so good, Mr. Stark.”

Tony almost pukes. His mind instantly flying to that day a few years ago on Titan. He remembers the fear in the kid’s eyes. The feeling of him dissolving into dust between Tony’s fingertips. The pain in his heart as he saw those big brown eyes fill with tears that evaporated as quickly and surely as the rest of his boy. 

He tightens his grip on Peter and leaves without stopping for anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

Getting a very drunk and no longer conscious superhuman out of the car and into the elevator is not fun, but Tony is about 78% positive that if he had the suit carry the kid, Peter would freak out and accidentally break off its arm. At the very least.

He decides the best course of action is to carry Peter like a child, with his arms around Tony’s neck and his legs wrapped around his torso. It’s nice, holding a warm body close to his. The divorce with Pepper was swift and mutual, but he couldn’t deny that he’d spent many nights cold and lonely, craving heat from whatever soul would come into his life next. His hands had to grab Peter’s ass through the cotton skirt in order to hold him up, and his mind couldn’t help but pay attention to how good that plump muscle felt cupped in his palms. 

Tony shakes his head, trying to physically shake the thoughts out of his brain. What the fuck is his problem? He’s known Peter since the kid was 15, and suddenly he sees the boy in a skirt and can’t control himself?  _ Get it the fuck together, Tony. Take care of your friend, and get. It. Together. _

He takes another shaky breath before making his way down the corridor, shifting Peter to one arm to open the door to the guest room. It wasn’t as luxurious as his own master suite, but Peter stayed in this room when he spent too long in the lab or decided to stay with Tony for the weekend, so he figured it may be more comforting for him when he wakes up in the morning. Tony lays him out on the bed, and  _ God  _ does that image do it for him.

Peter looks godly laid out on the crimson duvet with those gorgeous curls pooling around his head like a soft brown halo. The cardigan flares out like a robe, and the material of his skirt raises to show more of those black clad thighs. Tony reaches out a hand to feel the curves of those muscular legs for himself before yanking back his traitorous hand. He instead starts untying the boy’s combat boots, thinking with a soft chuckle that Peter’s seen too much actual combat to not own a real pair by now. 

He slides each boot off before reaching to slide off Peter’s cardigan. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the choker lining the kid’s pale neck. His fingers trace the faux leather, carefully dipping into the gap created by the metal o-ring before continuing to the other side. He swallows the saliva gathering in his mouth, slowly lifting Peter’s head and unfastening the necklace. 

Tony gently places the jewelry on the bedside table, turning back to Peter to lift him enough to slide off the sheer kimono. “God, Peter,” he whispers, afraid to disturb even a hair on his head. “You’ve got no fucking clue what you’re doing to me.”

He pulls Peter into a mock embrace, slowly removing the garment and relishing in the way his fingers graze the soft skin of the boy’s muscular arms. Before he can talk himself out of it, Tony brushes back Peter’s curls, pressing his lips to the kid’s forehead in a delicate kiss. He sets Peter back onto the bed, trailing his hand down his clothed chest. He shivers as his fingers brush the bare space of Peter’s abdomen before feeling the coarse fibers of the skirt. Tony lets his fingers journey to the soft black tights before finally getting to the garter belts. He unbuckles them slowly, taking in a sharp breath as his hand goes up Peter’s skirt to undo the clasp around his waist. 

After setting the garter belt onto the side table beside the choker, Tony gets up and begins walking to the door, knowing he’ll spend the rest of the night hating himself for feeling Peter like that. However, as soon as his hand touches the doorknob, Friday comes in over the speakers.

“Sir, studies show that leaving in anal sex toys overnight may be dangerous to one’s physical health as the anus does not produce the natural lubricant made by vaginas. Peter Parker has a ‘butt plug’ currently inserted, and it is advisable for you to remove it before retiring for the night.”

_ That’s it. The universe hates me. I should have never saved it. _

Tony takes a deep breath before turning on his heel and staring at Peter’s unconscious body.  _ This is for his health. This is for his health. This is for- _

_ FUCK IT.  _

Tony plops down onto the bed, and shakes Peter’s leg. No way is he doing something like that while the kid’s unconscious. No fucking way. 

After a few seconds, Peter wakes up, mumbling. “M-Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, kid, it’s me. We’re gonna have a big fucking talk in the morning, but for now I need you to get the- the  _ thing _ out of your ass.”

Peter groggily rolls onto his stomach, too drunk and tired to fully understand Tony’s tone. He fumbles with the zipper on the back of his skirt until Tony finally reaches over and helps pull it off of him. He licks his lips when the view of Peter’s ass shows through the sheer tights and feels his cock start filling out in his pants when Peter hooks his thumbs into the waistband of the tights and pulls them down until Tony’s eyes catch sight of a ruby red gem staring back at him. Mindlessly, he reaches out until his fingers are pushing against it, gently pushing the toy further into Peter’s ass.

The reaction is immediate. 

Peter falls forward onto his forearms, letting out an absolutely sinful moan that makes Tony want to replace that toy with his fingers or his tongue or his cock. Anything to hear that godly noise again. He gently tugs the toy, watching as it stretches Peter’s puffy rim and leaks out some of the stored lube. He toys with the plug, feeling empowered by the soft moans and whines that slip past Peter's lips. He may have slipped into a trance had Peter not looked back at him, making eye contact as he moaned Tony’s name into the space between them. 

Tony jerked, pulling the plug out as his hand retreated with him. Peter let out a rougher cry that time, but all Tony could do was drop the plug onto the bed and get the fuck out of that room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! I thought about adding more, but I know myself well enough to know that I would never finish the story if I didn't end it sooner rather than later. Please comment and leave kudos if you liked it! I'm always open to future ideas and ways to improve!!!

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. Tick tock. _

_ Sigh. _

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. Tick tock. _

_ Sigh.  _

Tony’s foot tapped impatiently on the mahogany floors, accompanied only by the sound of the ticking clock and the sighs that left his mouth like cigarette puffs on a lonely night. He had woken up—well, rolled out of bed after staring at the ceiling for lord knows how many hours—at 5AM. He stared blankly at his bedroom wall before telling Friday to call Pepper and let her know he was taking the day off. He personally called May to let her know that Peter had stayed with him last night and would probably be with him for the rest of the day. 

He didn’t add that when Peter went home, he’d likely never return to the Tower. Would likely never be able to look Tony in the eye again.

The glass of whiskey he’d had at 6AM was the only thing keeping Tony numb enough. The only thing preventing him from curling into leather cushions and simply letting his heart shatter. He was the one who fucked up. It doesn’t matter that the kid seemed into it. It didn’t matter that touching Peter made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt in his life. The kid was  _ drunk _ . Tony wasn’t any better than the creeps he had wanted to protect him from so badly the night before.

Tony stayed in his dissociative state for hours. He was about to get up and pour himself another glass when he heard the soft pat of Peter’s feet on the wood floors. His entire body froze, firmly glued to the coach. The kid looked at him for a moment, biting his lip, seemingly ready to escape back to the comfort of his room, before slowly walking towards him and settling next to him on the couch. 

Peter had changed into a pair of Tony’s sweatpants and one of his shirts at some point, and it eased Tony’s mind to know the kid wasn’t totally repulsed by him yet. He’s too caught up in his relief to hear the soft words tumbling from the boy’s lips. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

Peter stares at his hands for a second, nervously picking the skin around his fingernails. “Are you going to kick me out of the Avengers?”

“ _ What the fuck? _ ” Tony’s eyebrows draw together as he stares at the kid.  _ “Of course not _ , Peter. Why would you think that?” 

Peter chews his lips, playing with the drawstrings of his—well, Tony’s—sweatpants, tears gathering in his doe eyes. “Because I broke the law? Because I’m just some crossdressing gay kid who can’t even take care of himself? Because last night you had to help me with… that.”

Tony lets out a sigh, running calloused hands through his greying hair before opening his arms to let Peter crawl over to him. He resituates until Peter’s head is buried in his shoulder and both have their arms wrapped around one another. He rubs Peter’s back, surprised the kid even remembered anything from the night before. Seems like they’ve both been beating themselves up over stupid things. “Oh,  _ baby _ , I’m not gonna have you booted over something as stupid as having some drinks and having a hobby. I’m pretty sure I was snorting coke at your age, so I don’t really have room to judge.”

Peter snorts and curls further into Tony, making the older man’s chest fill with warmth. “As for helping you get that toy out, well, we’ve all done some things we’re embarrassed by. I’m happy it was me and not some Fratboy Chad that would’ve left it in or yanked it out.”

Peter chuckles, lifting his head to look into Tony’s eyes. “I see you’ve been talking to Elliott.”

“We met last night. Let me ask you a serious question.”

“Ok?”

“How the fuck did he get that buff?! I mean seriously! Even if he wasn’t trans, that’s just fucking insane. I think we should get him to meet Cap and Thor because I honestly think he could beat them both in an arm wrestling contest.”

Peter laughs full-bodied, burying his face into Tony’s shoulder while he catches his breath. “He could probably take them on at the same time and still win. Back when he presented as a girl, he did powerlifting, and he told me his goal in life was to be able to crush a man’s head with his calves. Now he wants to be able to crush a transphobe’s head with his hands. Although, I’m pretty sure he’s already met that goal…”

Tony hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s head without thinking. He instantly freezes and tries to pull away. “I-I’m sorry, Pete. I—”

Peter cuts him off with a soft kiss, not moving until Tony’s body relaxes against his. “All due respect, sir, shut the fuck up. I’ve wanted you to touch me like you did last night for years now. I’m just bummed I wasn’t able to fully enjoy it.”

Tony stares at him in awe, shivers racking his body as he pulls Peter impossibly closer. “Well then.” He presses his lips to Peter’s, gently nipping his bottom lip and relishing the noises that spill out of the lithe body against him. 

“How about a redo, pretty boy?” 


End file.
